


Minor Iris

by keegank



Category: LISA (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Short One Shot, i love her okay, this is the straightest thing i will ever write, yes i wrote this because chie gets NO attention from the lisa community
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keegank/pseuds/keegank
Summary: Some, but not all of Alex Churchland's desire to become a famous martial artist could be attributed to his best friend.Some of his downfall could be her fault, too.
Relationships: Alex Churchland/Chie Teal
Kudos: 9





	Minor Iris

**Author's Note:**

> hi-- yes, i know this was already published once before, but today i learned a few things about alex and chie's relationship that i didn't know before from fool's gold leaks and decided to revise this fic slightly to reflect that.
> 
> this work won't contain spoilers for chapter two, but it will for chapter one.

He didn't understand what the big deal was-- Vincent was fine. Barely even _scratched_. Yes, he passed out, but he wasn't concussed or anything! Besides, the flying axe kick was just a flashy trick he'd learned from his new tape. Alex didn't mean to actually hurt him.

Despite all of this, though, he got a week of suspension. And completely ignoring all the perfectly valid reasons not to and his promises not to try out any of his moves on his classmates again, the school called his aunt.

Alex could barely remember the shouting match that had occurred when she brought him home. What he did remember, though, was that she wanted to take away the tape. It took a lot of pleading and bargaining, but he managed to keep his aunt from throwing it away-- he was grounded, instead. He was disgruntled but accepted it. This was the better option.

"I can't let you get away with this, Alex," she'd explained to him, placing the tape in the top cupboard where he couldn't reach. "You could have injured that kid. His family could have sued. We don't have money for a lawyer."  
"I know…" he'd grumbled.  
"I'll give this back to you soon, but if the school calls me again and tells me you were roughhousing, you're losing it forever. Don't test me."

So Alex had to stay home for a few days with nothing to do-- his aunt wouldn't let him watch TV, either. It was quite possibly the worst time he'd ever had at that point in his twelve-year-old life. 

When he was allowed back at school, a lot of the other kids regarded him with fear and suspicion. They were intimidated. At first, it made Alex feel powerful and threatening-- then, it was just lonely. No one sat with him in class or at lunch. Bernadette handed out birthday party invitations in class, but he didn't get one.

No one liked him.

No one but Chie.

When he was allowed back out of the house, he met her in their secret little spot like always-- behind the bushes, hidden away. She was already there in her pink dress, smoking a cigarette. She beamed upon seeing him, exhaling smoke and gesturing for him to sit down.

“Finally, you’re back! I thought you forgot about me.”  
“No, I wouldn’t… I was grounded.”  
“For beating up Vincent?”  
“Yeah. Aunt Beth almost took away my tapes.”  
“Kind of harsh.”  
“I know! I didn’t _mean_ to hurt him or anything, I just wanted to…” He trailed off, his face growing red. He tried to hide it, but Chie squinted, confused, and sat up straighter, attempting to get a better look at him.  
“Wanted to what?”  
“Um…”  
She studied his face for a moment before smiling again. Her smile showed off her cheeks-- and her freckles. Alex couldn’t help but notice them.  
“You wanted to impress me!” she said with a giggle. He rubbed the back of his head.  
“...Did I?”  
“Of course! You were so flashy, and you got him _right_ on the chin! How’d you do that?”  
Alex smiled as well, looking back at her. “Loads of practice… I’ve been training on my tape every night. I wanted to show you.”  
“I’d want to show me, too.” Chie took the hand that wasn’t holding her cigarette and entwined her fingers with his. He flushed bright red once more, but she paid it no mind, taking another puff. When she breathed the smoke out, she turned to him again.  
“You’re gonna be famous one day. You know that, right?”  
“...Famous? You really think so?”  
“I know so!” she said cheerfully. “You’re amazing.”

Alex felt a bit winded; the words ‘you’re amazing’ echoed in his ears.  
“...I’m not gonna be able to show you again, though. My aunt would kill me.”  
“You train, though. Maybe I could come over and watch?”  
“Oh. Yeah, of course, that sounds like fun.”  
“Okay! I’ll come over tomorrow if you’re okay with it?”  
“Yeah. Sure.”

Chie kept her promise, walking home from school with Alex. She cheered him on and clapped when he performed a trick correctly. It made him feel more confident, more sure of the fact that one day he _would_ be a famous martial artist and perform incredible feats-- with her at his side, encouraging him.  
They sat together at lunch and came to each others' birthday parties. They were the only ones there, of course. They weren't very popular kids, not even close, but they were left alone-- even years after the flying axe kick incident. Chie was still impressed by his martial arts, and Alex was practically desperate to keep her thinking he was cool. He thought all the stars shone in her eyes-- she was quick-witted, dynamic and bright. Best of all, her hair reminded him of marigolds, and she smelled like coconut.

Well, sometimes. Most of the time, she smelled like ash.

Alex was rewatching his tape for what felt like the hundred-thousandth time as she lay on the bed behind him, smoking a cigarette. She'd dyed her messy hair black and traded the jumpers and dresses she used to wear for jeans and tank tops. Alex thought they looked good on her. Privately, of course.  
"Okay, okay, hold on--" he'd begun, getting into a stance. "I've got this new move I want to show you."  
Chie smirked, tapping her cigarette against the ashtray. "What is it? Better than the flying axe kick?"  
"Definitely. It's the Minor Iris."  
She cracked up, taking great care not to drop her cigarette on the bed.  
"What?"  
"Minor’? That’s so lame! They couldn't have called it anything else?"  
"No, Chie, they couldn't have."  
"I doubt that."  
"Well, what would _you_ have called it?"  
"I dunno. Not something that sounds like a constellation.”  
Alex gave his girlfriend a filthy look, which only encouraged her.  
"Don't look at me like that! It does!”  
"Ugh. Do you wanna see this or not?"  
"Yes. Yes, I want to see it. Okay. I'm serious now." She sat up, gazing at him. "This is my serious face."  
Alex regained his stance, flexing his hands before leaning forward and slashing at eye level multiple times. Chie's eyes widened, amazed, as her friend straightened up again, stretching.

"Jesus. You need to be fast for that, huh?"  
"Yup."  
"Tell me-- how's this different from just… poking someone in the eye?”  
"More strikes, and it's a bit more precise. You need to angle yourself in just the right way…"  
"I doubt that'd matter when you're slashing at someone's eyes over and over."  
"It matters more than you'd think. And I'm not gonna use it on you to prove it, so don't ask."  
"Geez, man, you need to relax. Here." Chie slid a carton of cigarettes out of her pocket. She flipped it open and handed one to Alex. He pushed her hand away.  
"No thanks."  
"They're not gonna hurt you, man. Just try one, it'll loosen you right up." He took it hesitantly.  
"Don't you need to light it?"

"Yeah, yeah, just hold on." Chie took out her lighter, holding it to the end of his smoke for a moment until it lit. She sat back down, Alex sitting next to her as she placed her things back into her pocket. He held the cigarette in his fingers the way she did, raising it to his lips. He thought it would go down a hell of a lot smoother than it did; the smoke he inhaled singed his lungs and made them burn. He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and hacked, his eyes watering.   
"That was terrible," he complained, and Chie shrugged.   
"Your first cigarette is always terrible. Keep going, you'll get used to it. Besides, that's a perfectly good one, and it'd make no sense to waste them."  
"You can get a pack for like two bucks. Who cares if I waste one?"  
"I do, dicklick. That comes out of my babysitting money."  
Alex rolled his eyes, taking the cigarette and putting it back in his mouth, sucking on it hesitantly. It went down smoother-- although anything was smoother than that initial choking fit.   
"So how many more moves are there?" Chie asked him, half-jokingly, stubbing what was left of her own cigarette out. Alex exhaled and looked back at her.  
"Plenty. The Goat Kick, Iron Hoof, Major Iris…”  
"Really?" She looked surprised. He liked it when he could surprise her. It was a rare occurrence. "I guess people do need two irises." She grinned, pointing at her eyes. He rolled his own to the sky.  
"No, there are three, but I'm trying to perfect Minor before I move onto the next one. And I need to hurry, too."  
"Why?"  
Alex perked up. "Didn't I tell you? I got accepted for the world tourney! It's being held in Olathe this year."  
"Shit, congratulations."  
"Yeah, it's a pretty big deal, and I gotta have the Minor Iris ready. It's gonna be my ticket to the top."  
"I'll be rooting for you." Chie grinned at him, and Alex smiled in return.  
"Yeah? You'll come?"  
"I'll come. Promise." She took ahold of his free hand, and he felt himself flush. He hoped he wasn't too red.  
"Thanks, Chie." He felt unsteady, and he prayed he didn't sound it. "It'd really mean a lot to me."  
"Of course, man. Besides, I haven't seen you whoop any real ass since seventh grade. I wanna see what you can do." She sat up, pulling her boots back on.  
"You're going?"  
"Yeah. My parents will want me home by now. Besides, you should try and practice your Ursa Minor without distraction."  
"It’s the _Minor Iris_.” he corrected her.  
"Bye,” Chie said bluntly, and Alex shook his head. “Oh-- and you’d better finish that cigarette,” she demanded, jokingly glaring at him. He chuckled.  
"Fine…"  
She smiled, pulling herself up and leaving the room. When he could no longer hear her footsteps, he chucked the cigarette into the trash can in the corner of the room.

\---

The world tournament was a complete and utter disaster. Even as he left the stand, the dark of the room closing in around him, he could feel himself being thrown against the mat over and over _and over again_.  
In his frustration and fury, on his last limb, he'd gotten himself disqualified.  
He'd never felt so low in his life. He shuffled to the locker room to get his coat and bag, but with every step he felt himself devolve further and further into misery. When he was finally alone, he sat down, put his head in his hands, and cried.

He'd failed. He'd spent years training as hard as he could, spent every waking hour for the last month perfecting his moves, and he still failed.   
He felt anger and shame boil in him on top of anguish and despair. How could he have lost? He did everything right, _everything_ \-- he worked so hard and got all his positioning right down to the last centimetre… _how could he have lost?_

Maybe he just wasn't cut out to be a martial artist.

When his tears subsided, he pulled on his coat and left the room, keeping his head down so no one could see how red his face was. He stopped at the payphone near the exit, though, pulling a few quarters out of his pocket and sliding them in the slot.

The phone was picked up on the third ring.  
"Chie?" he asked, confused-- and slightly angry, now, upon hearing her voice.  
"Oh."  
"Do you know where?" He leaned against the wall, too emotionally drained to cry again.  
"...Alright, bye."

He hung up. There was still some change jangling in his pocket as he left the empty building, a hollow feeling welling up within him.  
Before he left, though, he looked around the parking lot.  
It was empty but for one man in a trench coat. As Alex walked past, he offered him a sushi knife. He declined, continuing on, heading towards the bus stop.  
Chie-- his girlfriend, his self-proclaimed biggest fan-- hadn’t come. Yet she’d picked up the phone.  
As he headed onwards, sat at the bus stop, got on, and headed past trees and families and dilapidated homes, only one thought echoed around in his mind like a trumpet call up a mountainside: _You’re a failure._  
He was garbage. Trash. Human waste. Once on that bus ride he’d considered taking himself out, but thought better of it; Aunt Beth was getting old and needed to be taken care of, and she had no one else to do so. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen with the funds he thought he’d get from his martial arts career, though, and he hadn’t pursued higher education, naively thinking that he would have been successful. He knew now how stupid he was to not have had a backup plan.

As the bus slowed to a stop and the few others on the bus got off, Alex left with them, pressing his last bit of money into the driver’s hand for the bus fare. He didn’t know what he was going to do now, but he was sure he’d blown his only chance, and that he was going to be miserable for the rest of his life.

Forty-one years of dejection and heaving garbage bags would prove him wrong when he washed up on Garbage Island.


End file.
